Preparing for the End
by Biscuit15
Summary: AU. After witnessing Mammon's suicide, Bel slips into insanity. Though Squalo tried his hardest to look after him, all he could do in the end was put the boy into a psychiatric hospital, where he meets Vera D'Amore. But coupled with his abused background, Bel falls deeper and deeper into despair, and Vera is the only one he has to help him. BelxOC
1. Chapter 1

Bel always looked forward to when school ended. Not because he hated school and wished he could just stop going – though that part was true; he _did_ resent that fancy prison with all his being – but because as soon as the bell rang, he could pack up his things and make his way over to his best friend's home until night fell and he would have no choice but to go back to his own home before he missed curfew.

The boy hummed as he walked through the dodgy neighbouring streets, knowing how likely he was to be attacked in these areas, but at the same time he was uncaring; half of him almost _wanted_ for someone to come at him, to hurt him and abuse him and leave his lifeless body in a ditch somewhere because he was too much of a coward to finish the job himself. However, the other half of him wanted to be left alone since he received enough abuse from his parents.

"What are _you_ looking at?" Bel sneered at the male teenager in one of the front yards. His hands clenched within the pockets of his jacket, and he started to shake from the adrenaline rush in his body; he could so easily walk over there himself and throw the first punch, but to his disappointment, the other went back into the house without saying a word.

The rest of the journey was uneventful. Bel could feel the withdrawal effects from his medication kicking in already; it had only been a few days since he had last taken a pill, too… The cold wind blew hard, and it lifted up the boy's shirt high enough to reveal cuts and bruises littered along the pale flesh. His sleeves pulled back from the gale, showing wrists scarred from deep gashes that would never disappear completely. If anyone where there to see, Bel was certain they would be sickened.

The sky rumbled with the onset of thunder as Bel turned to walk down the pathway leading to his best friend's front door. He shivered as the first drops of rain fell on him, so he was thankful that he was seconds away from shelter. The steps of the veranda creaked under his weight as he climbed them, and he didn't stop to knock on the door; he instead grabbed the handle and tried to open it. To his surprise, however, it was locked, but the other was definitely here because their car was still parked in the driveway.

"Mammon?" Bel walked over to the window to peer into the living room, but he still couldn't see anyone. In his gut, he knew something was wrong because this wasn't normal; the door should be unlocked and his friend would be waiting for him in the living room like always.

The blond sighed. He walked around to the gate to the backyard and undid the catch so that he could enter through the back door. He found within seconds that the door was unlocked and he could get inside, but as soon as his feet stepped onto the linoleum, he felt uncomfortable due to the unusual darkness within the house. The atmosphere of the house was cold, foreboding… As if he weren't welcome here today.

"Mammon?" Bel walked through the back corridor so that he could get further inside. He stepped through the threshold that would lead him into the corridor where the bedrooms were, but there was still no sign of his friend anywhere. "Mammon? Where are y -?"

The student looked down as he heard something squelch beneath his shoes. He frowned as he realised he was standing in a puddle of blood, and his stomach did flips when he saw a trail leading to the other's bedroom. He followed it, despite knowing in his gut that he was going to find something that would forever haunt him. "Mammon…?"

There was movement in the bedroom, Bel could hear. He hurried his pace to see what was going on, but as soon as he stepped into the doorway, he froze; there before him was his best friend, with blood flowing down her arms and onto the floor beneath them as empty pill bottles littered the floor. In one hand was a gun pointed directly to her temple, and the blond could think nothing except that the world had surely frozen because nothing – not even him – was moving.

There was eye contact between them. Bel didn't know how long for; all he knew was that they were staring at each other, acknowledging that there was someone else with them, but not a word was spoken between them.

It was when Bel realised the severity of the situation did he finally break out of his trance. In the smallest whisper he could muster, he uttered his friend's name. "Mammon…"

The deafening crack that threatened to burst Bel's ear drums filled the room, and he hoped to god – oh, fucking _please_ god – that it was only the thunder, but the blood that had sprayed all over his face and clothes crushed his hopes and the cold reality of what had just happened hit him like a speeding cement truck.

Bel couldn't move; he could only stand there and stare at the lifeless body on the ground as he felt hot blood slowly drip down his face and onto his favourite white boots. He would have to wash those, he knew, but how did one remove the essence of death?

The roaring of thunder above him was like a constant reminder of what he had just witnessed, but even so, he couldn't quite bring himself to cry; he felt numb, the most he could feel was that of nausea, as if he needed to throw up but couldn't. The image of the walls splattered in blood was carved into his mind, and it seemed that even though he was blinking, he could still see the red even through closed eyes.

Maybe he should take a shower? Or better yet, he could burn his school uniform in the fireplace and scald off his skin under steaming hot water to remove the blood. He wondered if that would stop him from feeling the hot liquid all over him, but part of him doubted it would be very helpful; he would go home and cut his wrists like he always did and drug himself into oblivion with the strongest sleeping pills he had been able to acquire, but deep down, he knew he would never be able to get this out of his mind; it would be there, lurking in the deepest recesses waiting to strike like a tiger stalking its prey.

The room was almost dark from the grey skies and lack of lighting inside, but still, Bel couldn't move, not even when he heard approaching sirens and eventually the flashing of lights on the kerb outside. He was still frozen when he heard the front door being knocked down, and even when, however long later, people in uniforms flooded the room, he couldn't move; he could only stand there and stare as the body of his best friend was covered over with a white sheet.

"Let's get you out of here, sweetheart."

Bel could barely feel the hand on his shoulder, and the words that were spoken right beside him seemed almost like a near-inaudible whisper. He must have stood there for a century by now, but he didn't feel any older; he only felt sicker than he ever had in his life.

"He's in shock. Someone get him a blanket."

The boy didn't react in the slightest as a blanket was draped over his shoulders and wrapped his body. Someone grabbed his hand and tugged at him, and even though he wasn't conscious of it, his feet moved involuntarily, and he was led out of the house and to a waiting ambulance. He sat on the stretcher when he was guided onto it, and even though he knew he was no longer in that room that was full of the stench of death, no matter where he looked, all he could see was blood rolling down the walls as if they themselves were bleeding, and the dark, motionless figure of his best friend by his feet.

There was movement all around him, people touching him with their gloved hands and instruments, but he couldn't focus on any of it; his mind was taken over by instant replays of what had happened inside that house, and never before had he felt as empty as he did right now.

Part of him wished his best friend had told him she was going to commit suicide because at least then, maybe she would have been willing to put the gun to his head and pull the trigger for him first so he didn't have to fucking _live_ anymore.

But Mammon always had been selfish and greedy, and it was no surprise she had done this without consulting Bel first in order to leave him alone to pick up the pieces.


	2. Chapter 2

Bel looked up when the door to the hospital room he was being kept in opened. He blinked when he found his school principal walking towards him, a man with long, silver hair who was usually in a bad mood, but right now, he didn't look as annoyed as he always did; he looked –dare he say it – concerned. The blond was shaking, and he couldn't quite find the energy required to speak; all he could accomplish was watch as the man he knew as Squalo Superbia approached him with a nurse by his side.

"Thank goodness you came for him." The nurse, who had been sitting in the room with Bel since the ambulance had brought him to the hospital, sounded relieved as she spoke to the principal. "We tried getting into contact with his parents – it turns out they were killed in a car collision earlier. The poor boy… Seeing someone commit suicide and losing his parents in the same day…"

Bel remembered being told about his parents, but he hadn't cared; why _would_ he care when all he had ever gotten from them was abuse? He was _happy_ they were dead because now they couldn't hurt him anymore and make him feel more miserable than he already did. Maybe now he could actually sleep at night, and not have to worry about being screamed at and beaten for the tiniest thing.

Squalo said something to the nurse that Bel couldn't hear. When he received a nod in response, he closed the distance between he and the blond. He held a look of deep remorse on his face as he took in the shell-shocked expression on his student's face. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Belphegor. It's going to be okay; you're going to come and stay with me for a while."

Bel still said nothing; he simply stayed where he was, not quite understanding what had been said; his mind was running so fast, and he could barely focus.

The man cocked his head to the side as he took in the sight of his student. It was clear someone had attempted to wipe blood from his face, but all it had accomplished was leaving dried smear marks all over the boy's cheeks. His bangs were coated in the red fluid, and splotches of it could be seen dried in his hair. His hands and clothing was covered in dark red patches of blood, and after having been told about what Bel had been found in, he almost felt sick at the idea of going near the other; what if there were pieces of _brain matter_ attached to the blond…?

"Belphegor." It was times like these the long-haired man was glad he always wore gloves because otherwise there was no way in hell he'd be touching the younger, dried blood or not – as soon as he got home, he'd be sure to throw away his gloves. "Come on. I'll buy you dinner."

Just like he had back at Mammon's home, Bel moved only when he was guided away by hands on his body. His face was deathly pale, a result of the shock he was still suffering. He frowned deeply as the blindingly white walls surrounding him turned red with blood, and he could have vomited when he heard that gunshot echo through his mind once more.

The world around him went far quicker than he was used to; it felt as if time had sped up because he was sure he had only walked out of the hospital and gotten into Squalo's Mercedes perhaps ten seconds ago by the time he was standing on the other's doorstep. He heard the rustle of a plastic bag beside him, and when he looked down, he found the tell-tale signs of takeaway hanging from the man's arm; when had that gotten there? Had they really stopped along the way for Squalo to buy food…?

"Come on, brat."

Bel followed the man to the couch. He didn't sit until he felt hands push on his shoulders to lower him. He heard the bag rustling once again, and then the sound of a container lid being removed. Something warm was placed into his hand, and when he looked down, he found he was holding a container of teriyaki noodles. He swallowed the bile that was rapidly climbing his throat, and all he could do was stare at the food.

The sound of footsteps broke through the haze in Bel's mind, and when he looked up again, he found his principal was holding clothing out to him. He frowned. "…"

Squalo cleared his throat in uneasiness. "Voi… You can't keep wearing that shit… You can wear these for tonight… I'll take you to your house tomorrow to get your stuff…"

"Squalo…?"

The man hummed in response; he had never heard his student so quiet before. "What's up?"

"…" Bel shook his head and fell silent once again.

Squalo sighed. He paced around the living room for a few moments before he spoke again. "I'm not… I'm not used to havin' kids in my house or anythin', so I –"

" –Is she really dead…?"

Squalo stopped talking when he heard the heartbroken tone Bel was using. He sounded absolutely devastated, and there was a hint of disbelief, as if being covered in someone else's blood wasn't proof enough of reality. He frowned. "…Yes, Bel."

Bel lifted his head to look square at Squalo. "She killed herself… She didn't tell me she wanted to die… She just… did it…"

"…"

"Why…?"

"…I don't know…"

A single tear rolled down the blond's cheek. "She left me alone… She knew I don't have anyone else…"

Squalo looked anywhere but at Bel. It was true he was a vice principal, but despite that, he had limited experience with kids, and he wasn't very good with them; he had no idea what to do in this moment. "…Well, I… I'm here with ya…"

Bel pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them tight as he started to cry. It had been a long time since he had shed his tears, but the shock of what had happened was too much for him, and he didn't know how to swallow his emotions this time. He called out for his friend as he cried and cried, and all Squalo could do was stand there awkwardly and watch.

Somewhere along the way, Bel cried himself into sleep.

 _ **~~XX~~**_

Bel had never screamed so loudly before, but here he was, sitting upright on a couch he wasn't familiar with in a room so dark, he couldn't even see his hand in front of his face. He couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks; despite how dark it was, he could still see the blood dribbling down the walls and the unmoving lump on floor in front of him. His breathing was erratic, and the more he stared at the lump on the floor, the more he was sure he could see it moving until there was no doubt in his mind it was dragging itself across the floor towards him. His breath caught in his throat, but then he saw it; a familiar hand coated in blood that was reaching out for him. He swore he could feel its ghostly grasp on his leg, and all he could do was scream himself hoarse and try to climb over the back of the couch to get away.

"No! No! Mammon, d-don't!" Bel was in hysterics, and even when the living room light was flicked on and the lump he _knew_ was Mammon coming to drag him to hell with her disappeared, he couldn't calm down; all he could do was rock back and forth on the couch and fight against the nausea that was climbing his throat.

"Belphegor!" Squalo was by the boy's side in an instant, but no matter what he did, nothing was able to get Bel to stop hyperventilating. He felt lost, knowing he wasn't cut out to be caring for a kid in this condition, but he hadn't been able to say no when police knocked on his door and explained the situation; he didn't know where his student would have ended up if he didn't take him in, and the last thing he wanted was for the poor thing to be dumped off on some emergency foster parent who would only abuse him.

But even so… Perhaps he had been wrong to offer his home to Bel. It wasn't that he didn't _care,_ but… Well… Whatever Bel needed, Squalo didn't know how to give it to him, and he couldn't be the support that the blond would undoubtedly need in this moment.

"Bel, I - Bel… Your arms…" Squalo felt sick as he caught sight of the younger's arms; every inch of flesh was covered in scars and fresh cuts, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that Bel had been slicing his own flesh apart every day to have accumulated so many wounds. He shook his head; he couldn't do this, and as hard as he was willing to try, he knew it was useless; he was only going to get Bel's hopes up at having somewhere to say, and when Squalo finally fucked it up like he _knew_ he would…

No; it was better to find Bel somewhere that _could_ look after him, at least until the boy was able to stop grieving and take care of himself again.

As much as Squalo didn't want to, he was going to have to find somewhere more… permanent, for Bel's stay in the morning. For now, he would stay by the younger's side for as long as his student needed him to.


End file.
